


B&B

by MLMDarkFiction



Category: Black Christmas (1974), The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 11:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20656196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLMDarkFiction/pseuds/MLMDarkFiction
Summary: Billy finds refuge in the seemingly abandoned Heelshire house after his vacation takes a turn after he kills a local woman and her wife. At first he thinks himself to be alone in the mansion, but the longer he stays the more he begins to believe that this is not entirely the case.





	B&B

The Heelshire Mansion had quickly gone into a state of disarray. With Malcolm no longer delivering groceries and seeing to the grounds, and Greta no longer seeing to Brahms everything had fallen apart. The outside, admittedly, looks much worse than the inside, although the mess Brahms had made in his devastation and anger left much to be desired.

Thankfully, the prowler on the Heelshire’s property didn’t care much for looks. In fact, the abandoned feel of the property and main house was actually spurred Billy on in choosing his new place of residence. He had been staying in the town, at first in the local hotel, and then…

Billy’s not quite sure why he did what he did. Obviously, something triggered him, something always did, but he’s not sure what. It’s not near enough to the holiday season and- No. It didn’t matter now _why_ he did what he did. It was done. He had followed a woman who’d come into the hotel to speak with the man who ran it, and when she left Billy followed.

He followed the woman to her home, snuck inside, and then he killed the woman and her wife. He had stayed in the house as long as he was able, until he was stable once again, and when someone finally came to check on the missing pair, he left before they ever knew he was there. However, with leaving the house of his kill came a very serious issue of where he was going to stay.

It’s very likely that they suspect him, the strange foreigner who’d been staying at the hotel only to disappear the day the murders took place, and so he dares not go back there. While staying he had heard about the abandoned house, a bit out of the way of the town, and apparently haunted. Safe to say, Billy could hide there without having anyone to worry about.

After all he fears people above all else, even so-called ghosts.

Billy doesn’t think to simply check the front door of the mansion. He’s breaking in after all, abandoned building or not, but if he had checked it, he would find the door completely unlocked.

Brahms had refused the door after Greta had left. Hoping that the nanny would return, and by keeping the door unlocked assuring she could enter the home again. Because despite how much time had passed, and despite the many nights Brahms spent alone in the home without a routine or a good night kiss he still <strike>believed</strike> hoped that Greta would return to him.

She never will.

But that’s what Brahms first thinks when he hears the shattering of glass from a window on the first floor. He slinks back into the walls and makes his way down to meet her. Brahms will be good this time, and, for now, he’ll stay within the walls to avoid scaring her.

But when he makes his way down the stairs, looking through one of the many peepholes he’d cut into the wooden paneling over the years he’s not met with the sight of Greta, no he’s met with the appearance of a stranger. A strange man none the less.

Brahms’ first, kneejerk reaction, is to kill the man, but he doesn’t. Something stops him. And so instead of leaving the wall to dispose of the trespasser, he remains hidden and simply watches. He finds that, for a man, this stranger is quite pretty with his somewhat slender frame and shoulder length hair. It’s also easy for Brahms to pick up on the fact that the man seems to be…almost afraid? This fact leaves Brahms almost feeling a protective tug in his chest, as he wonders what exactly it was this man was running from. Whatever it was must have been severe enough for the man to decide taking refuge in an abandoned house was a good idea.

In reality Billy isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he enters the home. He’d busted the window, knocking out the remaining glass with a tree branch, and only then twisting his lithe body through the opening to his new temporary abode.

The place is a mess, but not as much as he had been expecting. In fact, aside from himself, it didn’t look as if anyone else had broken into this place.

There are smashed plates on the ground, furniture that appears to have been thrown about, and paintings and other artwork ripped, but the actual condition of the place isn’t terrible.

Billy can see himself staying here comfortably for a long while. He’s completely unaware of the man in the walls watching his every move, no he’s far more concerned with the possible threats outside of the mansion, those who would be looking for him.

He wastes no time in exploring the ‘abandoned’ home. To his surprise most of the mansion is actually intact. Although the foyer and billiard room have been trashed, the library and kitchen are intact. His exploration of the upstairs part of the home results in similar findings. One of the master bedrooms has been completely destroyed, although the other, what Billy guesses to be the Master Bedroom, looks completely untouched.

And eventually…he finds Brahms’ room. Of course, he doesn’t know that’s what the room is, or at least, what it’s supposed to represent. He finds the children’s toys littering the room, he see’s the porcelain doll in the bed.

It forces a reaction from the man. He decides very quickly that he does _not_ like this room. The reason is something he knows, it settles uncomfortable close in his core next to his trauma and grief, his hand twitches uncomfortably by his side. A familiar urge to **destroy** coming to his body.

Billy takes a deep breath, he composes himself, and he shuts the door. A level of self-control he often struggles with.

He’s not okay. Far from it. He’s twitchy, paranoid, more so than before, and now more than anything else he simply wishes to sleep. Billy already knows, when he rests his head, it will not be peaceful.

Brahms had witnessed the whole interaction from his safety of the house’s walls. He’d seen the troubled expression on the stranger’s face, the mix of disgust, fear, panic, maybe even something else Brahms was unable to place.

Was it the doll?

Even he wasn’t naïve enough to be unaware of a fear of such things, but surely it wasn’t _just_ the doll. The door to his room is shut by a shaking hand, and Brahms follows as the stranger turns back down the hall towards his Mother and Fathers room.

There’s no scenario in which Brahms allows this stranger to explore the halls of his home unsupervised. His parents’ room is the only room that it makes sense for Billy to rest in. Greta’s room was almost completely destroyed by Brahms himself, and for some reason his childhood room bothered the stranger.

-

A week passes of the stranger living in the house. Brahms has kept himself to the walls, limiting his time outside of them solely to eat when he knows that Billy is sleeping, as he’s afraid of making his presence known. But from his position in the walls he’s learned a bit about his uninvited guest.

His name is Billy. Brahms had found this fact out while listening to the man, as it turns out he talks to himself quite often, depending on the day it escalates. Sometimes it’s nothing more than a murmur under his breath, and yet other days it’s frustrated yelling, anger taken out verbally onto himself.

It worries Brahms.

But for all the worry it’s caused Brahms, it’s also opened his mind to who this stranger is. For starters his name is Billy. At first Brahms thought that perhaps Billy was yelling at someone else, someone Brahms couldn’t see, but that wasn’t actually the case. Meaning that the more concerning reality was that all the hateful, and downright confusing things Billy said were in fact pointed towards himself.

All problematic behaviors aside, Brahms finds himself liking Billy. As much as Brahms **needs** someone to look after him, he **wants** to look after Billy as well.

The solution is Brahms slowly easing the idea onto the other man, who is still unaware of his presence in the house.

To start with he introduced the doll into the equation, to mixed results. Until now, the doll had been kept away from Billy, locked away with Brahms’ other toys in his childhood bedroom, to avoid upsetting Billy.

But now that Brahms has decided to keep Billy it’s time to introduce the doll into the equation. After all, Billy still has to prove himself able to take care of Brahms.

Billy notices it when the doll begins to pop up throughout the house. Brahms is far from subtle, and it seems to be there every time he turns around.

And at first Billy isn’t sure what to think of it. He’d heard the rumors about the house before hand, about the fact this place was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a little boy. He hadn’t believed it or actually cared before now.

When the doll first makes its appearance, suddenly sitting on the counter behind Billy as he cooked, it shocks the man enough to make him jump. It scares Billy enough that his natural reaction is to grab the thing and destroy it.

He almost does so but stops himself. Unknowingly, that may have saved his life.

But no, Billy can’t bring it open himself to throw the doll, even after it’s in his grasp. No that he’s holding the doll he can see that it’s obviously broken.

Or well…_was_ broken. The face had, at one point, been completely shattered. Although someone, or something, had done a decent job at repairing it. Still there was no amount of glue capable of removing the thin cracks that litter the dolls porcelain face.

Instead of throwing it across the room as intended, Billy finds himself taking a good **ten** or so minutes to just stare down at the doll, examining it fully.

Oddly calmed, and no longer going to break the doll, he returns it to its sitting position on the counter, only to completely leave the kitchen behind, venturing further into the house. He finds the room, the one which he previously knew to be containing the doll and opens the child’s room to find that the doll is in fact missing from its place in bed.

When Billy closes the door to the bedroom, he slams the door.

-

The next morning when Billy wakes, the doll is beside him in bed. He stares at it, long and hard, blinking the sleep away from his eyes as he waits to see if it’s real or simply something imagined by his mentally ill brain. But it’s real. The doll was really there, laying inches from him, possibly the whole night he’d been sleeping.

This time he does get rid of it. Chucking it violently outside of the bedroom.

The doll itself doesn’t break, landing onto the wooden floor with a hard thump, but otherwise completely intact.

Billy doesn’t care to see to its destruction, instead he closes the door to the bedroom, locking it as he does so.

Every part of his brain is screaming in absolute agony and paranoia. Someone had been in his room. Someone had found him at his most vulnerable. Sure, they had only, for some reason, placed a doll beside him, but they could have-

“Ach!”

He’s panicking.

It’s far from the reaction Brahms had been expecting.

Billy pulls at his hair, nervous hands needing some form of outlet, it hurts but it helps. He goes from pulling his hair, to straight up beating his fists against his head.

Brahms does the only thing he can to try and alleviate the situation. He reveals himself. The locked door isn’t an issue, after all, he has many secret doors to the house. It’s more than simple for Brahms to open the door into his parents’ room, and to Billy.   
  
_“Please don’t be upset Billy…” _

It’s the childish voice. The most nonthreatening way Brahms, a 6’3 man with a voice much deeper than Billy’s, can manage.

Somehow…It works. At least Billy is distracted enough by the sudden appearance of the large masked man, that he falls silent hands limply falling to his side.

Billy takes a tentative step back away from Brahms, and although he’s hesitant, that doesn’t stop him. He follows Billy, taking a step forward for every step back the other man takes.

It doesn’t take long before Billy’s cornered between Brahms and a wall. His eyes are exactly that of a trapped animal. It reminds Brahms of the stray animals he’d get his hands on before squeezing the life out of them.

_“It’s okay.”_

The soft cooing of Brahms’ little boy voice does little to actually soothe Billy, especially when Brahms goes the extra mile to **hug** the panicked man. Once again, Brahms confusing and unexpected actions manage to calm Billy, if only because he’s too confused to say anything.

He’s frozen in fear and shock, body stiff as a board as he’s held.  
_  
“Are you better now?”_

Billy nods. He’s not sure what to do or say. In fact, he’s afraid of what this stranger would do if he were to say no. The hug is ended, but Brahms doesn’t go far. He only leaves Billy alone long enough to grab his doll.

Thankfully, no further damage has come to the doll. Even the face that had been shattered once seems to be okay.

When he returns to find Billy right where he’d left him, still standing against the wall. He’s been watching Brahms with wide eyes the whole time.

The taller man goes to the bed, sitting there with his mini-me and getting him comfortable. Billy doesn’t budge from his position against the wall, waiting to see what Brahms is going to do next.

Billy is confused. He doesn’t know who the stranger is, or why he’s here. He’s frightened by the porcelain mask, and the doll, proof that this stranger was likely the one who’d been watching him and moving said item around.

Even more confusing was his bodies reaction to the hug. Yes, he was afraid, his whole body stiffening up because of it, but… As embarrassing as it is to admit, he found himself slightly aroused by the simple contact.

Truthfully, Billy couldn’t remember the last time someone touched him in any sort of **friendly** manner, let alone a full-blown hug.

It’s why when Brahms pats the spot on the bed beside him, Billy finds his legs moving of their own accord before his mind can even register it. He’s already craving more of the positive physical attention.

-

It’s been two weeks now since Brahms first made his presence known to Billy. Since then he’s been able to successfully able to convince the other man to follow the routine, at least the best he was able to. It reminded Billy of the time right after **everything with his parents happened**, when he first started therapy, his therapist had told him that structure was good for him, and it was. Now living with Brahms, and keeping him to a somewhat regular schedule, Billy found himself living at least a little, more at ease.

Still Brahms was difficult.

For example, Billy was sure he’d already tucked Brahms into bed, including the goodnight kiss, but now he was sure someone was watching him.

Maybe it’s just the paranoia.

After all, he was trying to, for the first time since coming to stay within the walls of the Heelshire he was trying to take care of himself…sexually.

Billy has a bit of a hair thin trigger, it doesn’t take much or very long for him to get aroused, and it’s made the time living within the house a bit of a hell, but now he’s pent up beyond his own very little self-control.

His cold hands had only just slipped beneath the waist band of his pants to tease the flesh of his hips and thighs when Billy hears it. Somethings shuffling in the walls.

He stops. Hands still in his pants, resting against the warm flesh of his thighs, his cock twitches in desperation, but Billy doesn’t move, entirely still as he waits to try and see if he hears the sound again. But he doesn’t.

There’s no more shuffling within the walls, and so Billy continues, an audible moan leaving his throat as he finally moves to grip himself.

He won’t last long. He’s far too pent up, hips raising to buck into his own eager hands.

Billy doesn’t try to hold back his moans, dirty talk, and other various sounds that come from his mouth in pleasured bliss, they run on autopilot, leaving Billy completely unaware of what it is he’s actually even saying. A thin trail of drool slips past his lips as he moans and mewls like an animal.

The sounds he makes do wonders to muffle the sound of his voyeur.

Because Brahms had noticed something seemed **unusual** with Billy that night. He wasn’t able to put his finger on what exactly it was, but he was jumpy, unwilling to touch Brahms, almost downright refusing to give the man his goodnight kiss.

He’d assumed the worse. Assumed that Billy’s odd actions meant that he was planning to leave Brahms, just like Greta did. So, the second Billy left Brahms alone, tucked into bed, he got up and ventured into the walls to see just what his ‘nanny’ was going to do.

When Brahms goes through the maze of walls in the house, makes his way to Billy’s bedroom only to find that Billy’s playing with himself, hand in his pants teasingly close to the hard outline Brahms can see there, he’s filled with relief.

Billy wasn’t going to leave him. He was just touching himself.

Brahms feels relief…and something else. It’s not that he’s never been aroused before. He was attracted to Greta. He stole her clothes and made a doll version of her to cuddle and do **other** things to as well.

But he doesn’t need a doll of Billy. He has the real thing within his grasp and practically begging. However, before Brahms can either comes to Billy’s aid himself, or at the very least get his pants around his ankles to alleviate the tightness, Billy’s finished.

The fact alone is enough to bring a pout to Brahms’ covered face. He watches as Billy’s flushed face flops back against the pillow, curled sweaty locks framing his panting face. Brahms watches it all.

He loves the curve of Billy’s spine as he tries to relax into the bed, the rising and falling of his chest with every calming post orgasmic breath.

Brahms is taken off guard when, seemingly calmed down, Billy stands up from his bed.

A shower. Billy wants a shower. He didn’t have the foresight to pull himself from his pants, and now not only were his hands covered in cum, but so were his thighs, and underwear as well.

Ignoring the stickiness between his legs, unaware of the much bigger man watching, Billy makes his way to the bathroom. He ignores his reflection, stripping without so much as glancing to the mirror, and starting the water.

Brahms grabs Billy from behind. It scares the life out of Billy, still not used to his ‘roommate’ appearing almost entirely out of thing air.

Billy squirms and thrashes, only stopping when he turns fully in Brahms’ arms to see just who exactly it is holding him. He relaxes if only slightly, hand reaching up to cup the mans face when he realizes the mask is nowhere to be seen.

Before now he’d never actually seen Brahms without the unnerving mask he always wore.

“W-What are you?...”

Billy’s voice was always a panicked jumpy whisper, this time being no exception, and it’s easy for Brahms to interrupt him.

Not with the child’s voice, but with his own.

“Shh…Naughty Billy,” it’s a phrase he’d heard the man call himself while in the moment, “I want to **play**.”

The reaction Billy has is more than satisfactory. Brahms doesn’t bother trying to hide the smirk that takes his face watching as Billy flushes, and **feeling** as something hardens pressed against the two men.

It seems much easier to rile Billy than Brahms had originally thought. This doesn’t stop Brahms from following through with his seduction tactics, moving his face slightly to the side, to take one of the fingers Billy was using to cradle his face into his mouth and sucking.

The desired affect plays out as Billy gives a soft, uncertain moan.

He wants to enjoy himself, but he’s also deeply paranoid, twitchy, and unsure of what exactly Brahms is trying to accomplish by doing this.

Giving the finger a final lick, he pulls away to speak,

“Do you want to play with me, Billy?”

It’s asked once again in his real voice, the deep gruff voice that sends shivers down Billy’s spine, and before he can stop himself, he finds himself nodding along to Brahms’ question.

Brahms wastes no time stripping to join Billy in the nude, watching Billy as he does so.

The smaller man is obviously aroused, but also incredibly nervous. He doesn’t interact, in fact he stays still, watching as Brahms strips himself down, Billy hands clenching and unclenching into fists the whole time.

Whether Brahms notices these odd behaviors or not, he doesn’t react to them, picking Billy up with ease, a noise of exasperation and light fear as he’s taken off of his feet.

He carries him as far as the shower, before starting the water and pinning Billy to the wall.

The first kiss they share is hard and desperate, their teeth knock together, and a soft noise of pain passes Billy’s lips giving Brahms the opportunity to deepen it more.

  
Whatever it was keeping Billy subdued, and from participating to his fullest seems to be gone with the sealing of the kiss. He’s not about to be out done, let alone manhandled like this, it’s something Billy simply can’t **handle**. 

“You-You s-slut.” The words tumble from his lips in the form of a small laugh as the kiss ends, it doesn’t seem to matter to Billy he’s just as aroused as the other man.

There is a layer of boundaries that need to be set, that both men don’t have the communication skills **yet** to set.

And Billy decides with his mind whirling in a mix panic and arousal to take the lead, because he knows if things were to progress to that point that he wouldn’t be able to top Brahms in the bedroom.

He pushes the other man back, by the stomach, his hand pressing against the curly hair covering almost every inch of Brahms’ body. Billy can’t help but feel a ping of inferiority, or of damaged masculinity. It’s not that he had no body hair, but what he did have was much sparser than this seeming monster of a ma he was sharing a shower with.

Brahms gets the hint though, unpinning Billy from the wall only after stealing another kiss. The distance is enough for Billy to do what he needs to do, kneeling beneath Brahms, knees touch the slick tiled floor as water continues to pelt down on him from above.

The first thing Billy takes note of, with a sense of pride, is that he’s longer than Brahms. Even close up, with the other mans dick inches from his face he can tell although it’s thicker, at the end of the day, Billy is longer.

He doesn’t get straight to work. Billy takes a moment and presses his face to Brahms’ fuzzy thigh grinning up at him.

“Excited boy…Naughty boy.”

His signature dirty talk only does more to turn Brahms on, the other man impatiently thrusting his hip forward, the tip of his cock rubbing against Billy’s cheek. Billy frowns, not appreciating the impatience at all.   
  
“Want Billy’s nasty mouth-“  
  
Whatever it was Billy was going to say, he doesn’t get a chance to finish. It’s a moan from his own throat that interrupts him as Brahms thrusts his hips again, reaching down to grab onto Billy’s shoulder length locks pulling weakly on them.

And so, he quits his teasing, or really was it stalling, to take Brahms into his mouth.

It’s a new experience for both men.

Brahms who had no sexual experience outside of his own hand, and whose knowledge mainly came from books.

Billy who had experiences of his own but had never actually been on the giving end of a blow job before. 

The result is a pleasurable albeit quick experience for both men. Billy is clumsy in his delivery, accidental teeth, and lots of drooling, still trying to speak despite the dick in his mouth, and Brahms who doesn’t help the situation by using Billy’s hair as a handle to simply move the man as he see’s fit.

When Brahms does finally cum it’s into Billy’s mouth.

He hadn’t though far enough ahead about that part, and in the moment, he’s not sure what to think of the salty taste flooding his senses. Some is immediately swallowed on instinct, the rest drops from the corners of his lips, training down his chest and mixing with the water to swirl into the drain below.

Billy all but yelps when Brahms lifts him to his feet. His first reaction to begin apologizing, but the actions die before actually leaving his lips as Brahms is kissing him again, seemingly unbothered by his own seed still on Billy’s damp face.

All the while his hands reach down to fondle at Billy.

In the nervous excitement of the situation, Billy had somehow forgotten about his own arousal. It’s not his first hand job (definitely won’t be his last), but Brahms’ much larger fist, and calloused hands.

For Billy what happens next is a bit of a blur. The next thing he knows he’s back in the bedroom only this time it’s him being tucked into bed, a kissed place on his forehead by the other man. He’s confused, and tired.

_“Goodnight Billy.”_


End file.
